


From Russia, With Love

by dailyeggs



Series: From Russia, With Love [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crime, Dark, Death, M/M, Political, Politics, Psychological, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyeggs/pseuds/dailyeggs
Summary: A member of the Russian underworld, Viktor is gone and 15 year old Yurio is sent to track down the disappearance of Viktor Nikiforov, with only one phrase and location given; Pigman and Japan. What was Viktor doing in East Asia and what does the Russian government want with him? As a cold soldier named Yurio stumbles through the streets of Akihabara and into the small town of Hasetsu, little will Yurio know just how cruel the world is.





	From Russia, With Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue to a super work in progress political Yuri on Ice story with lots of tragedy and a sprinkle of fluff, so I hope you enjoy! (Also big thank you to Rui and Nicole for being my editors and Nicole for the great title!)

         The sea saw dark waters.

         It was a painting of ice and woes, more pain than truly painting and as he exhales, the sea weeps. The stars bloom in the darkness of the night and so the moon shines an ironic halo over his locks; his hair silvery cold but his eyes colder with long lashes frigid from dew drops, or were they tears? The sight before him was one that he was enigmatically unable to describe. He has never understood the need for emotions considering there was only emptiness in his life yet this peculiar moment gave his wretched soul a slightly uncomfortable realization that this might be what people would call a tragedy. In his life, there is only discord, his profession knows only blood lust. He inhales again, the waves exhaling and time soon dissipates into the lull of lament and respiration.

> _You left him alive-_
> 
> (It wasn’t like that-)
> 
> _Just kill him._
> 
> (I can’t.)
> 
> _Why didn’t you kill him? Just kill him-_

         He lights a cigar. “...” The words he muttered were intangible. The man doesn’t inhale the smoke, instead only watches it wane and flicker before dabbing the cigar out on the frosting grounds, hearing the sands sizzle, his only lasting souvenir.

> _Pathetic._
> 
> _Why didn’t you kill him?_
> 
> (I couldn’t.)

         The man didn’t know how long he has been standing there. It wasn’t the first time he had seen the sea, but for the first time he was truly acknowledging the dark sapphire figures of water embracing the lands around him. Was this a sign that this ice cold figure has been thawing? No, that’s pitiful, after all, ice doesn’t thaw, it just evanesces, it flows back into the ocean. There was a slight dread actually, and he notes that with a sad arch of a brow, as if this scenery and thoughts have occurred before. Deja vu. Moving from the imprint that his feet had lodged into the beach and a step closer to the foaming waters, the silver haired man puts one foot before the other, hearing the crunch of icy sands. He moves forward without hesitation, and the waves reach, soaking past the ankles this time. He doesn’t shiver as it rises past his torso then stopping just a little bit under his shoulders. It was cold, yet tangibly comforting. The man lifts a water heavy arm to push back his tousled silver locks, salt water dripping from long lashes.

_Or were they tears?_

Heavy waves came.

He is engulfed, an anticlimactic life drowned by an anticlimactic end.

> _What will you exchange for his life?_
> 
> (My life.)


End file.
